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[Session  1873-4,] 


Memorial  Bulletin 


OF  THE 


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American 


THE  LIFE  AND 

SERVICES  OF  DR.  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

AN  HONORARY  MEMBER  OF  THE  SOCIETY. 


REMARKS  OF  CHIEF-JUSTICE  DALY. 
REMARKS  OF  MAJOR  H.  C.  DANE. 
ADDRESS  OF  REV.  WM.  ADAMS,  D.D. 
ADDRESS  OF  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

ADDRESS  OF  DR.  I.  I.  HAYES. 

ADDRESS  OF  REV.  NOAH  HUNT  SCHENCK,  D.D. 


NEW-YORK  : 

PRINTED  FOR  THE  SOCIETY. 


1 874- 


Memorial  Meeting 


OF  THE 


gVmracau  (Geographical  ^ocicto. 

HELD  AT  THE 

ACADEMY  OF  MUSIC,  NEW- YORK. 

Thursday  Evening ,  April  23,  1874. 
Chief- Justice  Daly  in  the  chair. 


Notwithstanding  the  heaviest  rain  storm  of  the  season, 
more  than  twenty-five  hundred  Fellows  and  guests  of 
the  Society  participated  in  the  proceedings.  By  the 
courtesy  of  Major-General  W.  S.  Hancock,  U.  S.  A., 
the  United  States  Army  Band,  stationed  on  Governor’s 
Island,  played  dirges  at  intervals  during  the  evening. 


Introductory  Remarks  by  Chief- Justice  Daly. 

Fellows  of  the  Society,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen: — 
The  connection  of  Dr,  Livingstone  with  the  Society 
extends  almost  to  the  period  when  he  commenced  his 
careeer  as  an  explorer.  His  name  has  been  the  longest 
upon  our  list  of  honorary  members.  Many  years  ago, 
we  honored  ourselves  by  placing  his  name  on  that  lim¬ 
ited  list,  and  he  expressed  himself  honored  that  we  had 


3 


done  so.  We  had  hoped  that  when  the  work  to  whieh 
he  had  devoted  so  many  years  of  his  life  had  been  accom¬ 
plished,  the  tracing  out  of  the  great  network  of  rivers 
and  lakes,  which  constitute  the  water  sheds  of  South  and 
Central  Africa,  that  he  would  have  visited  this  country, 
and  that  we  would  have  had  the  opportunity  upon  some 
public  occasion  of  expressing  to  him  our  appreciation 
and  that  of  the  American  people  of  what  he  had  done 
in  extending  the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge,  and 
in  the  great  cause  of  humanity.  It  was  destined  that  it 
should  be  otherwise.  He  is  now  in  his  grave,  entombed 
with  the  illustrious  dead  of  England,  and  all  that  is  left 
us  is  to  unite  in  the  public  tribute  of  respect  to  his 
memory.  You  will  be  addressed  by  four  eminent  gen¬ 
tlemen,  members  of  the  Society,  upon  his  life  scenes  and 
character.  Preparatory  to  their  remarks,  1  will  call 
upon  Major  Dane,  who  is  himself  about  to  commence 

his  career  as  a  geographical  traveller  in  the  exploration 

/ 

of  the  unknown  regions  of  Central  Asia,  to  point  out  the 
respective  routes  of  Dr.  Livingstone,  upon  the  map  of 
Africa,  that  you  may  have  before  you  a  large  portion  of 
that  great  continent  that  has  been  opened  by  his  explo¬ 
rations  and  discoveries.  I  should  also  mention  that  the 
portrait  of  Dr.  Livingstone  which  surmounts  the  map 
of  Africa  has  been  painted  for  the  occasion  by  a  Fellow, 
the  distinguished  artist,  Mr.  Rinehardt. 

4 


MAJOR  H.  C.  DANE  ON  THE  GEOGRAPHICAL 
WORK  OF  DR.  LIVINGSTONE. 


Mr.  President,  Fellows  of  the  American  Geograph¬ 
ical  Society,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen: — I  deem  myself 
most  highly  honored  in  being  invited  by  the  officers 
of  the  Society  to  point  out  upon  the  map  a  general 
outline  of  the  several  extensive  journeys  of  explo¬ 
ration  made  by  the  remarkable  man  whose  memory 
we  honor  this  night.  Time  will  necessarily  compel  me 
to  be  brief  and  explicit;  nevertheless  I  shall  endeavor 
to  give  you  such  an  understanding  of  the  vast  work  he 
accomplished,  that  you  may  be  able  to  follow  him  in  his 
wanderings,  as  those  who  are  to  address  you  upon  his 
character  and  achievements,  shall  recount  his  labors. 
Thirty-five  years  ago,  all  we  knew  of  the  great  continent 
of  Africa  was  its  Northern  States  bordering  upon  the 
Medeterranean;  the  line  of  its  Western  coast  as  it  was 
given  to  the  world  by  Prince  Henry  the  Navigator 
whose  soul  was  inspired  to  discovery  by  the  wonderful 
exploits  of  Marco  Polo,  through  the  efforts  of  his  naval 
commander  Vasco  De  Gama,  who  coasted  down  to  the 
cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  pushed  across  the  Indian  Ocean. 

On  our  Geographical  maps  of  twenty  years  since,  little 
more  was  seen  except  a  few  towns  along  the  Eastern 
coast,  while  all  the  vast  interior  was  an  almost  unspotted 
blank,  with  its  inscription  in  bold  type: — uThe  Unex¬ 
plored  Region  of  Ethiopia.”  The  Nile  was  seen  as  a 


line  running  up  through  Egypt,  with  its  sources  lost  in 
the  vast  unexplored  region  and  the  dim  romance  of  the 
histories  of  Ptolemy  and  Herodotus. 

But  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  notwithstanding  our  blank 
modern  maps,  we  find  in  a  map  published  by  Ortelius 
in  1573,  a  copy  of  which  may  be  seen  in  the  marvelous 
collection  of  Geographical  Society,  two  large  lakes  in 
the  midst  of  the  portion  that  afterwards  became  a  blank. 
The  larger  one  bore  two  names;  its  Northern  limb  that 
of  Zaire,  and  its  Southern  limb  that  of  Zembre ;  the  lesser 
was  called  Zaflan.  And  both  lakes  are  represented  as 
being  the  chief  sources  of  the  Nile. 

In  1840  David  Livingstone  arrived  at  Cape  Town  to 
enter  upon  his  work  as  a  Missionary.  Very  soon  he 
proceeded  Northward  to  the  town  of  Kuruman,  where 
he  joined  Dr.  Moffatt  and  began  his  labors.  There  he 
met  and  married  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Moffatt,  and 
shortly  afterwards  advanced  to  Kolobeng  and  established 
his  mission.  In  1843  he  labored  in  Mobatza,  and  in 
1845  in  Chaunane.  Up  to  1847  he  continued  his  labors 
in  that  vicinity,  making  various  journeys  into  the  sur¬ 
rounding  country,  among  the  Boer  tribes,  a  savage  and 
treacherous  people  who  were  incapable  of  improvement. 
While  he  was  away  from  Kolobeng  in  1847  among  the 
neighboring  tribes,  the  heartless  Boers  made  a  descent 
upon  his  mission  and  utterly  destroyed  it,  burning  his 
house  and  stealing  all  his  property,  and  murdering 
hundreds  of  the  people.  Upon  his  return  he  found 
himself  almost  a  beggar,  and  surrounded  by  an  openly 
hostile  people.  Most  men  would  have  been  crushed  by 
such  a  blow,  but  with  Dr.  Livingstone  it  served  only  as 

6 


an  incentive  to  still  greater  effort.  Gazing  upon  the 
smouldering  embers  of  his  house,  and  then  upon  his 
defenceless  wife  and  children,  he  made  his  resolve  and 
at  once  set  about  its  execution.  He  hastened  to  Cape 
Town  with-  his  family,  his  noble  soul  animated  by  a 
purpose  that  thrills  us  with  admiration  as  we  recall  it. 
He  saw  the  immense  difficulties  before  him,  and  realized 
that  he  must  henceforth  be  shackled  with  no  domestic 
burdens,  and  nerved  himself  to  tear  from  his  heart  the 
tenderest  chords  of  his  nature.  He  secured  a  passage 
for  his  family  to  England,  and  with  emotions  we  cannot 
know,  bade  them  God-speed,  and  smothered  his  feelings 
in  deep  and  dilligent  study  of  the  sciences  undbr  the 
Royal  Astronomer.  Back  to  Kuruman,  back  to  Kolo- 
beng  he  went,  turning  his  back  upon  all  he  loved,  and 
went  to  his  scientific  work  on  the  arid  sands  of  the 
Kalahari  Desert  in  1849,  and  was  soon  rewarded  in  the 
discovery  of  Lake  Ngami.  From  there  he  crossed  the 
Tioghe  River,  and  on  to  Scheletu’s  Town,  where  he  won 
the  chief  to  his  support.  He  next  discovered  Lake 
Kalai,  and  then  pushed  on  to  Sesheke  in  1851,  where 
he  won  the  confidence  of  another  chief.  From  Sesheke 
he  started  for  the  West  coast,  passing  up  the  Leeba 
River,  stopping  at  Barotze  and  Sliinte,  beyond  which 
he  discovered  Lake  Dilolo.  Leaving  Lake  Dilolo,  the 
bold-hearted  wanderer  encountered  the  most  trying 
journey  he  ever  made.  It  was  on  that  journey  he 
waded  miles  through  the  swamp,  in  the  water  up  to  his 
neck,  seeking  for  a  ford.  At  last  he  succeeded,  and 
forced  his  way  on  to  Njambi,  and  Cassange,  thence 
down  the  Ooanza  River,  reaching  St.  Paul  de  Loando  in 


7 


1854.  After  a  rest  of  a  few  weeks  to  recover  his  wasted 
strength  and  health,  he  turned  back  with  the  sublime 
purpose  of  crossing  the  continent  to  the  East  coast.  On 
his  way  to  Sesheke  he  visited  Cabango  in  1855.  Leaving 
Sesheke  he  discovered  Garden  Island,  one  of  the  most 
charming  spots  in  the  world,  for  whose  marvelous  beauty 
he  called  it  the  Garden.  He  next  discovered  a  won¬ 
derful  waterfall,  twice  the  height  of  Niagara,  to  which 
he  gave  the  name  of  Victoria.  Forcing  his  way  through 
appalling  obstacles,  he  reached  the  Zambezi  Liver,  and 
then  down  that  to  Zumbo,  then  on  to  Tette  and  Sena, 
finally  reaching  Quilimane  in  1856.  From  there  he 
sailed  for  England  after  an  absence  of  over  sixteen  years 
having  traveled  in  the  unbroken  wilds  of  the  unknown 
land,  over  9000  miles. 

In  1858  he  returned  to  the  East  coast  to  enter  upon 
liis  second  journey.  Passing  up  the  Kongone  Liver, 
the  South  mouth  of  the  Zambeze,  to  Sena,  he  completed 
his  equipment  and  left  for  Tette,  which  he  reached  in 
September.  From  there  he  crossed  to  Chibisa,  and 
making  that  his  base,  made  several  journeys,  the  first 
resulting  in  the  discovery  of  Lake  Sliinva,  the  second 
to  Lake  Nyassa  and  along  its  Western  shore,  then  back 
to  Tette.  In  May,  1860,  he  started  from  Tette  for  his 
second  visit  to  the  Makololo  country.  He  reached  the 
Chico va  Plains  June  1st,  where  he  encountered  great 
difficulties.  He  reached  Zumbo  on  the  Loangwa  Liver 
June  26th,  and  Victoria  Falls  August  9th.  After  making 
further  explorations  in  that  neighborhood,  he  passed  on 
to  Sesheke  to  visit  his  old  friend  Sekeletu.  Leturning 
and  taking  a  new  route  from  Victoria  Falls,  he  reached 

8 


Sinemane  October  5th,  and  Zumbo  November  1st,  and 
Tette  on  the  23d.  He  journeyed  slowly  down  to  the 
Kongone  River,  reaching  his  starting  place  January  4th, 
1861.  After  a  short  rest,  he  made  a  second  journey  up 
to  Lake  Nyassa.  Upon  his  return  to  Shupanga,  he  was 
doomed  to  a  sad  experience  in  the  death  of  his  devoted 
and  beloved  wife.  The  terrible  exposures  to  which  she 
had  been  subjected  had  sapped  her  life,  and  on  the  even¬ 
ing  of  a  soft  and  lovely  Sunday,  April  27th,  1862,  she 
left  him  in  the  midst  of  his  vast  explorations,  and  passed 
to  her  rest.  However  sad  his  heart  may  have  been,  he 
silently  turned  his  face  inland  once  more  and  buried  his 
grief  in  the  deep  shades  of  the  unbroken  forests,  and 
made  several  journeys.  Having  conceived  the  idea  that 
Lake  Nyassa  might  be  reached  by  way  of  the  Rovuma 
River,  he  sailed  for  that  river  August  6th,  1862,  reaching 
it  the  first  of  September.  He  at  once  began  its  ascent, 
and  progressed  until  the  25th,  when  he  reached  cataracts 
at  Nyamatolo  which  impeded  his  further  progress,  and 
he  returned.  Soon  after  he  received  orders  to  return  to 
England,  and  sailed  May  19th,  1863,  having  traveled 
several  thousand  miles  in  addition  to  his  former  journeys. 

In  1866,  he  reached  Zanzibar  for  his  third  journey. 
On  the  28th  of  March  he  left  Zanzibar  for  Mikindany 
Bay,  and  began  the  second  ascent  of  Rovuma  River. 
Reaching  Nyamatolo,  he  left  his  boats  and  went  over¬ 
land,,  passing  South  of  Lake  Nyassa,  and  taking  an  inland 
route  among  the  mountains,  passed  Northward  through 
the  Lobisa  Countrv,  the  home  of  the  Babisa  tribes,  who 
were  largely  engaged  in  the  slave  trade.  Crossing  the 
valley  of  the  Lowangwa,  he  passed  along  the  Northern 


9 


shore  of  Lake  Liembi,  which  he  thus  discovered  to  be 
separate  from  Lake  Tanganyika.  Thence  Southward 
again  into  the  Lobisa  Country,  he  changed  his  course  to 
the  North-west  to  Lake  Moero,  then  Southward  to  Lake 
Bangweolo  or  Bemba,  which  he  reached  in  1868.  Ex¬ 
ploring  that  Lake  and  vicinity  quite  extensively,  he 
went  back  to  Lake  Moero,  passing  along  the  East  coast, 
then  back  to  Cazembes,  and  from  there  went  to  Lake 
Tanganyika  and  explored  its  Western  course  up  to 
Uguhha.  He  crossed  to  Ujiji  in  May,  1869,  and  rested 
for  a  short  time.  He  crossed  again  to  Uguhha,  and 
started  on  a  far  Western  tour,  reaching  Bambarre  in 
July.  Making  that  a  base,  he  explored  Lake  Kamalondo 
to  the  South,  and  then  the  unbroken  regions  to  the 
North,  where  he  discovered  many  large  rivers.  In 
August,  1870,  he  left  Bambarre  for  the  farther  West, 
visiting  Bakoos  and  Bagenya  on  the  Lualaba  River,  and 
discovered  a  large  lake  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of 
Lincoln,  in  honor  of  our  most  illustrious  and  honored 
citizen  and  Ex-President. 

From  Bagenya,  in  1871,  he  made  his  way  into  the 
wild  regions  to  the  East,  where  he  found  a  primeval 
forest  with  large  villages  about  ten  miles  apart.  He 
returned  to  Bambarre  and  began  his  journey  back  to 
Ujiji,  where  he  arrived  in  October,  1871,  thoroughly 
exhausted  and  out  of  funds.  Disappointed  and  sad,  he 
set  himself  to  writing  up  his  journal  and  otherwise 
busying  himself  to  keep  away  despair.  And  while  thus 
engaged,  and  waiting  for — he  knew  not  what — to  his 
astonishment  and  amazement,  the  intrepid  Stanley,  the 
well  supplied  messenger  from  the  New  York  Herald, 

IO 


presented  himself  before  the  well-worn  traveler  with  all 
his  heart  most  desired.  Mr.  Stanley  has  given  the 
world  the  account  of  the  travels  of  the  two  together, 
and  of  that  I  need  not  speak. 

At  Unyauyembe,  Stanley  and  Doctor  Livingstone 
parted  early  in  1872,  while  Sir  Samuel  White  Baker 
was  fighting  the  Bari  in  the  great  basin  of  the  Nile,  and 
Alvan  S.  Southworth,  another  representative  of  the 
New  York  Herald,  and  now  the  active  and  enterprising 
Secretary  of  this  honorable  Society,  was  pushing  his  way 
at  the  head  of  an  expedition  up  that  mysterious  river 
five  hundred  miles  above  Khartoum,  the  junction 
of  the  Blue  and  White  Niles.  Soon  after  Stanley 
left  him,  Dr.  Livingstone  started  on  his  last  journey. 
Well  worn  and  exhausted,  the  bold  old  pioneer  started 
once  more  alone,  with  his  black  comrades,  for  the  wild 
interior.  His  plan  was  to  pass  to  the  south  of  Lake 
Tanganyika,  to  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Bemba,  then 
northward  to  the  west  of  the  Conda  Irugo  mountains  to 
Lake  Kamolondo,  and  from  there  to  Lake  Lincoln,  and 
thence  to  the  large  lake  at  the  north,  which  has  never 
been  visited. 

He  had  passed  to  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Bemba,  when 
lie  found  that  his  strength  was  failing,  and  that  he  could 
not  proceed.  The  unequaled  trials,  privations  and  ex¬ 
posures  through  which  he  had  passed  during  thirty 
years  of  toil,  such  as  no  other  man  ever  experienced, 
together  with  the  malaria  of  the  jungle,  had  thoroughly 
sapped  his  constitution,  and  with  a  sad  heart — sad¬ 
der  than  we  know—  he  realized  it.  No  one  will  ever 
dare  to  picture  the  disappointment  he  must  have  expe- 

1 1 


rienced  as  he  gave  up  the  last  hope  of  his  life.  Weak 
and  helpless  he  crossed  the  lake  to  the  north  shore  and 
started  for  Unyanyembe,  longing  for  home.  But  the 
attempt  was  in  vain.  He  had  delayed  too  long.  He 
could  continue  his  journey  but  a  few  days  on  his  mules, 
and  then  abandoned  them  for  a  litter  which  his  faithful 
attendants  bore  through  the  tangled  forests  for  three 
days,  when  he  was  compelled  to  halt.  Then  it  was  that 
the  longing  of  his  weary  soul  for  his  home  and  loved 
ones  found  utterance.  He  longed  for  the  comforts  of 
civilization  For  thirty  long,  tedious  years — and  what 
years  to  him! — the  damp  and  poisonous  soil  of  Africa 
had  been  his  couch  and  the  starry  vault  of  heaven  his 
canopy,  and  lie  had  always  been  satisfied  ;  but  now  when 
the  long  march  was  drawing  to  a  close  he  yearned  for 
other  shelter,  and  in  his  agony  he  cried : — u  Build  me  a 
hut  to  die  in.”  The  hut  was  built,  rough  and  simple, 
and  they  laid  his  sinking  form  therein. 

From  the  deep,  dark,  cold  valley,  into  which  he  was 
slowly  but  surely  slipping,  came  a  chilling  wave  that 
swept  over  his  broken  frame,  and  pressed  out  the  bitter 
cry: — “I  am  very  cold;  put  more  grass  upon  the  hut.” 
But  neither  more  grass  upon  the  hut,  nor  the  kind 
attentions  of  his  one  devoted  and  faithful  attendant 
could  warm  his  blood.  And  there,  alone,  deep  in  the 
thick  forest  shades  of  the  land  where  he  had  fought  so 
long  and  nobly,  a  few  miles  from  the  beautiful  shores  of 
Lake  Bemba,  his  long  march  was  ended.  There  he 
pitched  the  tent;  there  he  stacked  his  arms,  and  went 
to  his  rest:  — 

“  Sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  *  *  * 

Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams.” 

I  2 


ADDRESS  OF  THE  REV.  WM.  ADAMS,  D.D. 


The  Rev.  Dr.  Adams  said: — 

Mr.  President  : — The  occasion  on  which  we  are  con¬ 
vened  is  certainly  unique  and  extraordinary.  We  are  met 
to  do  honor,  not  to  one  of  our  own  fellow  citizens  for  dis¬ 
tinguished,  patriotic  services  to  his  native  land,  but  to  one 
who  was  personally  a  stranger  to  nearly  all  who  are  here 
present,  yet  nevertheless  was  known  and  honored  through¬ 
out  the  civilized  world.  Last  Saturday  his  body  was  in¬ 
terred  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  procession  which 
followed  his  remains,  we  are  told,  filed  its  way  through 
crowds  of  sorrowful  men.  Men  of  the  highest  rank  in 
Church  and  State  took  part  in  the  funeral  pageant. 
The  Queen  and  royal  family  were  represented  amid  this 
token  of  general  sorrow.  And  who  was  the  man  thus 
honored  by  those  high  tokens  of  respect  and  assigned  a 
resting  place  in  that  spot  which  England  has  reserved 
for  her  mighty  dead  ?  He  was  not  one  of  her  own 
statesmen  who  had  charmed  the  British  Senate  by  his 
eloquence  and  was  brought  to  sleep  by  the  side  of 
Chatham,  Fox  and  Canning.  He  was  not  one  of  her 
great  and  brave  admirals  or  generals  brought  to  sleep 
by  the  side  of  Wolfe  and  Nelson.  He  was  not  one  of 
her  poets,  philosophers  or  historians,  like  Gibbon,  New¬ 
ton  or  Macaulay,  whose  works  will  ever  be  regarded 
as  the  grand  jewels  of  English  literature.  No  ;  he  was 
a  man  of  very  humble  origin  and  of  most  singular 


r3 


modesty — a  man  who,  when  he  first  gained  notice,  was 
an  unpretending  Christian  missionary  going  among 
the  pagans  of  Africa.  As  the  opportunities  opened  the 
sphere  of  his  work  enlarged,  and  he  became  one  of  the 
most  successful  explorers  of  that  mysterious  continent, 
which,  since  the  days  of  Herodotus,  has  been  a  prob¬ 
lem  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  Having  endured  great 
pain  and  following  out  the  path  he  had  chosen,  with 
great  industry,  he  has  become  a  contributor  to  the  sum  of 
human  knowledge  in  the  cause  of  science,  civilization 
and  Christianity.  It  is  a  good  thing  for  us  to  honor 
the  memory  of  such  a  man.  Dr.  Livingstone  was  truly 
a  great  man.  What  was  his  greatness  ?  That  is  the 
question  ;  and  it  receives  an  answer  from  the  author  of 
our  religion.  It  is  well  when  there  is  such  a  struggle 
for  political  place  and  power,  when  there  is  so  much  done 
to  stimulate  ambition,  that  the  question  which  arose  was 
settled.  Upon  a  certain  day  our  Lord  and  His  twelve 
disciples  were  walking  along  the  road,  and  He  over¬ 
heard  them  engaged  in  a  very  animated  conversation. 
He  did  not  interrupt  them  at  the  time,  but  when 
evening  came  He  recalled  the  matter,  and  gave  to 
them,  and  through  them  to  us,  a  lesson  of  immortal 
wisdom,  which,  whenever  and  by  whomsoever  it  has 
been  reduced  to  practice,  has  never  failed  to  win  the 
approbation  of  all  right-minded  men.  It  seems  that 
that  group  of  disciples,  supposing  that  their  Lord  was 
to  found  a  political  dynasty,  were  in  dispute  among 
themselves  which  of  them  should  be  the  greatest  and 
who  should  hold  the  highest  office  in  that  new  political 
empire.  They  seem  to  have  been  the  prototypes  of 

14 


modern  politicians.  We  do  not  know  the  particulars, 
but  Matthew  wras  a  tax-gatherer  and  familiar  with  as¬ 
sessments,  and  we  may  suppose  that  he  made  claim  for 
the  administration  of  the  Custom-house.  Peter,  bold, 
impetuous,  noble-hearted,  was  not  going  to  occupy  any 
inferior  place  ;  and  there  was  one  man  in  the  crowd 
who  undoubtedly  looked  pretty  sharp  at  the  Treasury. 
u  Whoever  among  you  will  be  greatest,  let  him  be  your 
minister,’7  he  said.  A  new  law  was  propounded  that 
moment  that  never  was  dreamed  of  by  Greek  or  Roman. 
It  is  well  for  us  assembled  in  this  western  horizon  to 
meet  together  and  do  honor  to  the  memory  of  a  man 
whose  life  and  achievements  were  among  the  exam¬ 
ples  of  this  great  law.  The  object  of  Dr.  Living 
stone  was  not  to  win  the  things  associated  with 
greatness — ribbons,  stars  and  titles.  He  subjected  him¬ 
self  to  trouble  and  labor  in  seeking  the  good  of  his 
fellow  man,  and  when  he  entered  upon  this  labor  he 
chose  the  least  attractive  part  of  the  world.  He  went 
among  barbarians,  40,000,000  of  whom  had  been  ex¬ 
ported  and  sold  into  slavery.  This  was  self-sacrifice. 
What  an  endurance  of  pain  and  hardship  he  underwent 
in  this  work  we  can  hardly  conceive ;  but  he  devoted 
himself  to  it  for  the  purpose  of  giving  those  barbarians 
the  light  of  the  Gospel  and  lifting  them  into  the  dignity 
of  Christian  civilization.  It  was,  indeed,  meet  and 
proper  that  queens,  princes,  lords  and  bishops  should 
vie  in  doing  honor  to  such  a  great  man.  It  is  well  for 
ourselves  to  meet  together  to  lift  up  this  one  idea,  that 
there  is  a  greatness  which  is  not  to  be  measured  by  an 
earthly  standard — that  there  is  some  greatness  other 


15 


than  devoting  ourselves  to  making  large  fortunes ;  that 
there  is  some  greatness  other  than  being  eleeted  to  the 
Board  of  Aldermen  or  even  to  the  position  of  Senator 
of  such  a  State  as  Massachusetts ;  that  there  is  some¬ 
thing  greater  than  to  be  lifted  to  a  place  where  one  can 
inflate  the  currency  as  Eolus  filled  his  bags  with 
wind.  Dr.  Livingstone  worked  at  his  plan,  not 
with  spasmodic  effort,  but  with  untiring,  unremitting 
toil,  severing  himself  from  his  family  and  from  the  civil¬ 
ized  world.  He  plunged  into  pestiferous  jungles,  waded 
through  swamps,  climbed  over  mountains,  passed 
through  regions  filled  with  malaria,  and  explored  dis¬ 
tricts  where  he  suffered  from  tropical  heat.  Fever 
wasted  his  body  to  a  skeleton,  but  he  never  thought  of 
going  back.  He  was  determined  to  accomplish  all  that 
he  could — all  that  was  within  the  reach  of  human  indus¬ 
try.  This  was  heroism  of  the  greatest  kind,  different 
from  that  of  the  man  sitting  on  his  charger  in  the  heat 
of  battle  when  his  blood  was  up,  with  the  blast  of  war 
and  the  shock  of  an  army  around  him,  knowing  that  the 
eyes  of  his  country  are  upon  him  and  feeling  that  he 
may  win  all  the  honors  that  ambition  ever  pictured, 
just  as  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley,  who  has  returned  from  a 
different  embassy  in  another  part  of  Africa,  and  has 
been  granted  titles  and  all  manner  of  honors.  Living 
stone  was  alone  in  what  he  did.  He  acted  in  cool 
blood.  He  had  set  his  mind  on  a  determined  purpose 
and  he  was  not  diverted  from  it.  He  felt  he  must  die 
among  savages.  He  determined  to  do  all  in  self-sacri- 
fice  for  the  advantage  of  the  world.  1  am  inclined  to 
suggest  a  thought  in  this  connection,  that  there  must  be 


1 6 


always  a  union  between  true  science  and  Christianity, 
which  must  always  walk  together  in  the  world.  Many 
Americans  have  done  much  for  the  country  and  the  pro¬ 
motion  of  its  fame  by  devoting  their  time  to  the  work 
of  exploration  and  the  cause  of  religion.  They  have 
shown,  in  an  admirable  manner,  that  there  is  one  re¬ 
ligion  which  can  be  shared  in  by  all  mankind.  We  do 
well  to  pay  our  respects  to  the  memory  of  David 
Livingstone.  It  was  meet  that  one  of  our  own  coun¬ 
trymen  rescued  him  when  he  seemed  to  be  utterly  lost 
in  the  wilderness  of  Africa — it  is  meet  that  we  should 
pay  respect  to  his  memory.  His  work  is  done.  He 
sleeps  in  Westminster  Abbey.  He  was  a  true  son  of 
science — a  hero  of  civilization — a  great  missionary  of 
the  cross.  He  is  gone,  but  his  works  follow  him.  In 
that  day  that  prophecy  has  promised,  when  Ethiopia 
shall  stretch  out  her  hands — when  she  shall  be  redressed 
of  the  wrongs  that  prevail  in  her  mysterious  regions — 
the  name  of  Dr.  Livingstone  will  shine  as  bright  as  the 
stars  in  the  firmament,  for  ever  and  ever. 


ADDRESS  OF  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  was  loudly  cheered  by  the 
spectators,  on  making  his  appearance  on  the  platform. 
Chief-Justice  Daly  said:— rThe  audience  has  introduced 
Mr.  Beecher,  so  it  is,  therefore,  unnecessary  for  me  to 
do  so. 

Mr.  Beecher  said : 

Mr.  President  : — I  observe  that  there  is  a  generous  pro¬ 
vision  for  you  to-night,  and  that  a  number  of  speakers  are 
to  follow  me,  and  I  shall,  therefore,  be  brief  in  my  remarks. 
It  is  a  good  sign  of  the  progress  of  civilization — not  in 
extent,  but  in  quality — that  communities  are  learning 
gratitude  ;  and  they  are  not  learning  with  the  men  that 
are  dead  alone,  but  are  taking  living  men  and  giving  to 
them  the  joys  of  appreciation.  For,  one  of  the  signs  of 
a  superior  nature  is  an  exquisite  susceptibility  to  kind¬ 
nesses,  to  services  rendered.  It  is  a  good  thing  for  a 
community  to  call  up  all  its  humblest  servants  and  those 
who  serve  it  physically ;  those  who  by  invention  abbre¬ 
viate  the  purposes  of  industry,  making  the  condition  of 
the  great  common  people  easier,  and  who,  by  condensing 
labor  and  cheapening  it,  give  time  to  men  for  something 
other  than  physical  drudgery.  We  would  not  stint  the 
praise  that  goes  to  them  that  make  life  softer,  and  that, 
in  the  midst  of  society,  increase  the  comfort  of  the  non¬ 
heroic  multitude.  But  there  are  those  who  give  no 


1 8 


immediate  return,  whose  lives  are  fruitful.  Such  are 
eminently  explorers  and  discoverers.  I  am  met,  when 
I  speak  of  those  who  have  so  ceaselessly  besieged,  and 
yet  never  taken,  the  fortress  of  the  Northern  Pole,  with 
the  question,-  “  What  use  is  it?  Suppose  that  the  Polar 
regions  were  ransacked  and  that  men  should  shoot  to 
and  fro  over  the  imaginary  Pole,  what  then  ?”  What 
then !  Nothing,  if  all  men’s  thought  of  value  is  some¬ 
thing  to  buy  or  sell.  Nothing,  if  you  must  have  a 
physical  equivalent  and  something  tangible  and  visible. 
Much,  if  it  be  a  value  to  add  manhood  to  other  man¬ 
hoods  ;  for  he  who  takes  his  life  in  his  hand  and  fights 
against  nature,  putting  skill  against  force  and  the  irre¬ 
sistibleness  of  human  will  against  the  irresistibleness  of 
nature  in  her  frigid  zone,  adds  little  to  territory  but 
much  to  manhood,  and  raises  the  whole  thought  which 
we  entertain  of  heroism;  and  by  fortitude,  by  patience, 
by  endurance,  by  sturdy  courage  and  by  at  least  a  few 
discoveries,  brings  back  to  us  a  treasure  which  makes 
the  whole  generation  richer.  For  that  which  lifts  the 
thought  of  man  as  with  the  power  divine,  that  which 
enlarges  the  sense  of  being,  is  itself  a  gift,  compared 
with  which  silver  and  gold  are  as  dross.  When  men, 
therefore,  have  perilled  their  lives  and  laid  them  down 
in  the  service  of  science,  they  may  not  have  added 
many  facts,  they  may  not  have  discovered  and  added 
many  truths;  but  they  have  left  a  record  which  will 
make  society  so  much  richer  that  it  is  worth  all  that 
they  have  suffered.  And  no  men  are  doing  more  for  us 
than  those  men  who,  in  the  study,  or  in  the  observatory, 
or  in  remote  parts  of  the  earth,  are  bringing  general 


l9 


knowledge  to  the  service  of  mankind  by  ways  which 
make  mankind  richer — by  the  examples  and  the  suffer¬ 
ing  and  the  heroism  of  those  that  achieve  these  things. 
We  come  to-night,  Fellows  of  the  Geographical  Society, 
to  pay  our  respect — no,  to  lay  the  offering  of  our  thanks 
before  the  name  of  one  simple  as  a  child  and  great  as 
any  man  in  our  time  has  been — David  Livingstone — an 
honorary  member,  I  believe,  sir,  of  this  Geographical  So¬ 
ciety,  to  which  society,  if  not  the  very  first,  at  least,  per¬ 
haps  the  second,  communication  of  his  missionary  explora¬ 
tions  was  made — one  which,  to  the  very  last,  we  had 
occasion  to  remember  with  gratitude  and  with  honor. 
It  is  fitting,  therefore,  that  this  society  should  make 
mention  of  his  name  and  appoint  an  evening  for  the 
celebration  in  which  we  are  now  actors.  That  great 
wonder — that  continent  of  Africa!  If  I  had  selected  a 
place  in  which  to  play  the  hero,  that  would  have  been 
the  last  one  suggested  to  my  choice.  Until  very  recently 
its  swarming  population  was  not  in  good  odor  with 
us.  There  have  been  a  thousand  reasons  why  we 
praised  the  European  and  the  Caucasian  and  were 
tolerant  even  of  the  Tartar  and  the  Mongol;  but  the 
African  has  been  beneath  contempt,  or,  if  at  all  tolerated, 
it  was  only  as  we  found  him  in  the  far  antiquity,  the 
mythical  African  of  a  remote  and  improbable  civiliza¬ 
tion.  That  great  continent,  which  has  been  known  for 
thousands  of  years  and  is  almost  absolutely  unknown, 
the  wonder  of  history  and  a  phenomenon  of  geography, 
near  to  civilization  and  on  its  own  borders  carrying  the 
earliest,  surrounded  again  and  again,  encircled  by  fleets 
and  yet  unpierced,  defended  by  a  thousand  obstacles  to 

20 


discovery,  it  remains  to-day  the  enigma  of  geography. 
To  have  gone  forth  to  explore  that  continent,  had  one 
attempted  it  as  a  purpose  and  an  ambition,  would  have 
been  remarkable.  But  David  Livingstone  went  on  no 
such  errand.'  He  went  as  a  simple  missionary,  who  was 
as  far  from  expecting  the  results  which  have  transpired 
in  his  life  as  any  person  could  have  been.  Going  to 
South  Africa  he  went  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  be¬ 
nighted.  He  gave  himself  to  this  service  by  almost 
identifying  himself  with  the  population.  He  left  civili¬ 
zation  behind  him  and  adopted  the  manners  of  the 
natives ;  he  almost  lived  as  the  savages  live.  He  learned 
thus  their  language,  he  entered  into  their  sympathies 
and  their  feelings,  he  became  as  one  of  them.  And  if 
at  that  stage  of  his  life  one  had  looked  upon  it  he  would 
have  asked,  u  What  is  all  this  for?  How  can  a  man  of 
any  sympathy  bury  himself  up  in  this  darkness,  and  live 
among  brutal  savages,  and  experience  pleasure  or  joy?” 
But  he  was  proving,  unknown  to  himself,  the  declaration 
that  uhe  that  abaseth  himself  shall  be  exalted.”  For  it 
was  in  this  school  that  he  was  gaining  the  power  to 
achieve  the  things  that  afterwards  made  his  name  illus¬ 
trious.  He  had  learned  the  people  and  their  manners. 
He  had  learned  the  language  by  which  his  labor  was 
facilitated.  Then,  when  disaster  came  upon  him  and  all 
his  missionary  hopes  of  exploration,  to  open  that  conti¬ 
nent  to  Christianity,  to  commerce,  to  civilization,  were 
apparently  overthrown  when  he  began  this  second  stage 
of  his  work,  at  every  step  of  it  he  reaped  the  benefit 
which  accrued  from  his  (as  we  might  say)  humble 
services  at  a  primary  school  of  missionary  labor.  The 


records  of  his  journey  are  written,  as  I  think,  with  exqui¬ 
site  simplicity  and  truthfulness.  I  know  of  no  book 
more  fascinating,  not  even,  perhaps,  “Robinson  Crusoe,” 
for  Defoe’s  style  was  hardly  more  simple  than  was  Liv¬ 
ingstone’s.  I  know  it,  because  for  years  it  has  lain  in 
my  dining-room,  and  instead  of  dessert  I  have  taken 
“Livingstone,”  reading  while  others  ate,  until  it  has 
become  almost  as  familiar  to  me  as  to  my  boyhood  was 
“  Robinson  Crusoe.”  I  know  of  no  book  that  so  enables. 

one  to  look  into  the  interior  of  a  man — a  man  with 
* 

vanity,  but  without  improper  pride,  a  man  showing 
manhood  at  every  step,  and  often  under  circumstances 
the  most  difficult — -just  such  a  man  in  the  wilds  of 
Africa,  self-respecting,  energetic,  patient,  persevering, 
manly  in  every  way,  as  if  he  were  walking  before  an 
audience  at  London  or  were  in  the  midst  of  the  plaudits 
of  New- York.  He  showed  himself  more  than  a  man — 
he  was  a  diplomatist.  It  may  be  difficult  to  be  a  diplo¬ 
matist  among  civilized  nations  when  Greek  meets  Greek, 

where  fierce  and  artful  expedients  are  pitted  against 

* 

each  other ;  but  to  be  a  diplomatist  in  the  woods  or 
among  savages  is  a  great  tiling.  To  be  a  diplomatist 
with  an  army  or  a  nation  at  your  back  is  one  thing  ;  to 
be  alone  with  a  few  Makolulu  servants  about  you,  with 
no  recognized  civil  Powers  near  you  but  the  kings  and 
princes  all  through  Southern  Africa,  is  another  thing. 
In  all  this  he  was  a  master  man.  Almost  alone 
he  traversed  thousands  of  miles,  first  to  the  West¬ 
ern  Coast,  then  back  to  the  Eastern  Coast,  and  then 
afterwards  that  network  of  travel  in  the  center  of  Africa, 
at  every  step  relying  on  his  own  ingenuity,  honesty  and 

22 


knowledge  of  the  natives.  He  persevered  where  hun¬ 
dreds  of  men  would  have  perished  by  their  own  want  of 
experience  or  wisdom.  Unscathed  from  out  of  a  thou¬ 
sand  dangers,  he  persevered  until,  not  by  the  hand  of 
man,  but  by  the  insidious  encroachments  of  disease,  he 
was  laid  away  forever.  This  is  a  man  who,  if  he  had 
discovered  no  lake,  if  he  had  measured  no  mountain  or 

’  9 

revealed  no  valleys,  would  have  added  to  the  number 
of  those  by  whom  our  children,  looking  back  upon,  will  ' 
feel  themselves  ennobled,  and  aspiration  will  follow  the 
reading  of  the  life  of  Livingstone  as  long  as  a  generous 
sentiment  remains  in  the  young  heart.  But  in  this 
great  exploration  the  man  was  not  seeking  merely 
curious  things ;  he  was  not  prompted  by  that  curious 
vagabondism  which  inspires  many  Englishmen  to  climb 
the  Alps  or  to  hunt  throughout  Southern  Africa.  His 
eye  was  perpetually  upon  the  features  of  nature,  loving 
science  and  adding  to  her  treasure.  He  surveyed  the 
fields  and  opportunities,  and  he  descried  afar  the  civili¬ 
zation  that  was  one  day  to  take  possession  of  Southern 
and  Central  Africa.  All  the  way  through  he  thought 
how  to  extinguish  the  abominations,  cruelties  and  inhu¬ 
manities  of  the  slave  trade;  everywhere,  and  higher 
than  all  these,  how  the  name  of  his  Master  should  be 
made  honorable  in  the  lives  and  conversion  of  these 
swarming  myriads  of  Central  Africa.  Never  were  nobler 
motives  grouped  together.  Never  was  a  man  for  so 
many  years  so  successful  in  conducting  an  enterprise 
with  so  few  resources,  under  the  inspiration  of  motives 
so  high.  When  at  last  lie  fell  he  had  done  a  good  work, 
and  yet,  like  Moses,  he  only  saw  the  promised  land,  but 

23 


was  not  suffered  to  enter  it.  His  geographical  pride 
was  to  discover  the  sources  of  the  Nile.  He  died  without 
knowing  that  he  had  discovered  them. 

Fellow  citizens,  two  great  expeditions,  almost  at  the 
same  time,  left  the  Western  and  Eastern  coasts  of  Africa, 
wending  their  way  towards  Great  Britain.  On  the  west 
a  British  General,  who  deserves  well  of  his  country, 
who  had  conducted  her  flag  honorably,  had  sub¬ 
dued  rebellion  and  maintained  the  dignity  as  well 
as  the  rights  of  the  country ;  on  the  east  they  bore 
the  body  of  the  dead  explorer — the  one  and  the 
other — towards  the  fatherland.  As  the  living  hero  came, 
all  England  rose  rejoicingly ;  the  bells  rang,  the  trumpets 
sounded,  the  streets  were  thronged  and  all  the  people 
acclaimed  u  Bravo !”  and  he  had  deserved  it.  But  a  little 
space  and  the  bells  were  tolled,  and  again  the  trumpets 
resounded  and  the  streets  were  filled  and  the  whole 
people  were  hushed ;  for  they  followed  a  bier.  It  was 
no  general,  but  it  was  a  simple  man,  who  had  gone  out 
a  missionary  and  had  come  back  a  hero.  They  bore  him 
into  Westminster  Abbey.  He  lies  among  the  honored 
dead  of  that  national  mausoleum,  and  no  nobler  form 
ever  passed  through  its  portal.  Of  the  two — the  living 
hero,  justly  honored  and  endeared  to  his  country,  and 
the  explorer  who  carried  at  once  in  his  heart  the  love 
of  Gon  and  the  love  of  man — the  dead  hero  lying  in 
Westminster  Abbey  I  had  rather  be  than  the  living 
general.  England  took  with  honor  the  living  and  the 
dead,  and  was  herself  honored  in  receiving  them  both, 
but  more  honored  in  the  reception  of  the  dead  than  the 
living — of  this  great  man,  who  has  been  among  the 

24 


chiefest  of  explorers,  the  noblest  of  men,  the  truest  of 
Christians  among  those  heroes  that  have  exalted  hu¬ 
manity  and  made  it  easier  in  all  time  for  men  to  do 
great  deeds  patiently,  humbly  and  well. 


25 


ADDRESS  OF  DR.  I.  I.  HAYES. 


Mr.  President,  Fellows  of  the  Geographical  So¬ 
ciety,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen: — I  am  here  to-night  to 
speak  of  Dr.  Livingstone  as  a  traveler.  Mr.  Beecher 
has  already  pictured  to  you  many  of  his  great  achieve¬ 
ments  in  that  direction,  and  they  have  been  made  the 
more  clear  to  you  through  the  careful  geographical  de¬ 
scriptions  of  Major  Dane,  while  Dr.  Adams,  with  his 
usual  eloquence,  has  portrayed  the  missionary  life  of 
that  extraordinary  man  whose  body  was,  on  Saturday 
last,  laid  away  with  the  mighty  dead  in  Westminster 
Abbey — that  mausoleum  of  the  great. 

If  I  do  not  feel  that  I  have  the  power  fully  to  analyze 
the  character  of  Dr.  Livingstone  as  a  traveler,  there  is 
perhaps  one  point  upon  which  I  may  freely  dwell  with 
justice  to  the  living  and  the  dead.  It  is  the  spirit  by 
which  that  great  traveler  was  animated,  and  with  which 
no  man  of  any  time  was  so  completely  filled  since  Marco 
Polo  first  taught  the  world  what  a  traveler  might  be. 
It  is  the  Spirit  of  Discovery  which  guided  his  whole 
life. 

I  have  often  asked  myself,  u  Why  is  it  that  Dr.  Living¬ 
stone  appeals  so  strongly  to  our  sympathies?  Why  is 
it  that  to-day  the  thought  of  the  world  centres  about  the 
name  of  that  great  man?  Why  is  it  that  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society  of  London  and  the  American 
Geographical  Society  of  New-York  should  vie  with  each 
other  in  paying  homage  to  his  memory  ?  Why  is  it  that 

26 


the  great  throbbing  heart  of  the  whole  world  has  so 
promptly  and  so  earnestly  responded  to  the  energetic 
efforts  of  the  New- York  Herald  to  reclaim  the  lost  wan¬ 
derer  and  bring  him  back  again  to  civilization  ?”  and  the 
answer  comes  : — It  is  because  we  find  in  him  strongly  ex¬ 
pressed  a  law  of  our  being  which,  more  or  less,  governs  us 
all.  It  is  that  we  all  seek  after  hidden  things  in  nature — 
seek  to  discover  something  that  is  new,  to  experience  a 
new  emotion  in  a  new  triumph,  to  do  something  that  may 
enlarge  our  mental  and  material  vision :  it  may  be, 
something  that  u  the  world  will  not  willingly  let  die.” 
For  are  we  not  all  natural  born  travelers?  True,  we 
are  governed  by  different  desires.  One  travels  to  gratify 
a  roving  curiosity  and  satisfy  undefined  fancies ;  one  de¬ 
sires  to  wander  by  the  sea  and  listen  to  what  the  wild 
waves  are  ever  saying ;  another  to  climb  some  dangerous 
mountain  height ;  another  to  ramble  through  the  great 
cities  of  a  foreign  land ;  another  to  roam  among  the 
ruins  of  the  past.  But  Livingstone’s  was  a  higher,  a 
nobler  ambition  than  any  of  these  ;  for  his  ambition  was 
to  tread  the  wilds  of  unknown  lands,  and  bring  to  light 
that  which  had  been  so  long  hidden  from  all  the  world. 

While  we  readily  discover  in  the  ordinary  traveler  a 
vein  of  selfish  gratification — a  desire  simply  to  please 
him  or  herself — we  find  in  the  traveler  Livingstone 
that  which  arouses  our  highest  admiration,  the  noblest 
spirit  that  ever  animated  man — the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
for  the  benefit  of  his  fellows.  That  there  was  a  degree 
of  pride  in  all  he  attempted  to  do  we  must  admit, 
but  it  was  a  pride  which  claims  our  sympathy 
and  respect.  It  was  the  same  pride  which  caused 


27 


Columbus  to  face  the  dangers  of  the  great  unknown  sea ; 
it  was  the  same  pride  that  thrilled  Magellan,  when  in 
the  midst  of  mutiny,  as  he  emerged  from  the  straits 
which  bear  his  illustrious  name  into  the  broad,  sweeping 
waters  of  the  Pacific,  he  answered  the  demand  to  turn 
back,  in  dread  of  prospective  starvation,  “We  will  on, 
on  to  the  West;  we  may  eat  the  skins  from  our  yards, 
but  we  will  not  turn  back.”  It  was  the  same  pride  that 
led  the  immortal  Franklin  to  crowd  his  way  among  the 
crushing  icebergs  of  the  North  to  find  the  pathway  to 
the  Pole. 

David  Livingstone  was  a  great  traveler;  and,  my 
friends,  that  means  much.  A  man  may  travel  all  the 
world  over ;  he  may  visit  every  land,  he  may  rest  in 
every  clime,  he  may  speak  every  tongue  ;  he  may  have 
been  entertained  by  the  great  of  every  people,  and  yet 
not  be  a  great  traveler.  When  St.  Paul,  near  the  close 
of  his  unequalled  career,  after  having  addressed  himself 
to  vast  throngs  of  almost  every  people  of  his  time, 
uttered  these  words,  u  I  have  been  made  all  things  unto 
all  men,”  he  defined  truly  the  character  of  the  great 
traveler. 

The  great  traveler  is  one  who  leaves  no  enemies  in 
his  rear,  for  he  assimilates  himself  to  the  people  about 
him.  Staff  in  hand  he  pushes  out  into  untrodden  path¬ 
ways,  fearless  and  free,  recognizing  all  men  as  his 
common  brethren.  Such  a  man  was  Marco  Polo,  and 
such  a  man  was  David  Livingstone. 

For  the  space  of  a  generation  Marco  Polo  traversed 
the  hitherto  unknown  regions  of  Central  Asia,  passing 
without  fear  among  the  Tartar  tribes,  wherever  he  went 

28 


making  friends,  and  finding  everywhere  unknown  tribes 
eagerly  awaiting  his  approach,  until  at  length  he  reached 
the  mighty  monarch  of  the  East — the  great  Khublai 
Khan,  who,  while  ruling  over  countless  millions  of  peo¬ 
ple,  made  the  traveler  his  trusted  counselor.  And  now 
in  later  times  we  find  another  such  traveler  for  the 
space  of  a  generation  wandering  through  Central  Africa. 
It  is  Livingstone,  who,  like  Marco  Polo,  traversed 
hitherto  unknown  regions,  passing  from  country  to 
country  and  from  tribe  to  tribe,  oftentimes  in  the  midst 
of  wars  and  bloodshed,  and  was,  like  Marco  Polo,  not 
molested  in  his  course  by  hostile  demonstrations ;  for  he 
was  the  instinctively  recognized  friend  of  all,  the  faith¬ 
ful  and  unquestioned  ally  of  mankind  everywhere,  and 
with  his  patent  of  nobility  stamped  upon  his  forehead 
we  see  him  moving  freely  on  his  course  toward  the 
achievement  of  his  great  mission.  He  made  himself 
all  things  unto  all  men.  Adapting  himself  to  their  situ¬ 
ation,  always  appreciating  their  condition,  abusing  none 
of  their  prejudices,  never  with  violence  attacking  their 
superstitions,  never  seeking  to  instruct  them  beyond 
their  capacity  to  learn,  kind  and  gentle  always,  cheerful 
always,  loving  always,  he  endeared  himself  to  every 
one  he  met. 

Marco  Polo  and  David  Livingstone  stand  out  as  the 
typical  travelers  of  different  epochs.  The  one  traversed 
the  lands  of  the  Orient,  grew  rich  and  told  the  story  of 
a  life  which  set  the  world  ablaze  with  enterprise,  and 
brought  about  the  discovery  of  America.  The  other 
traversed  lands  that  were  poor  in  what  we  call  wealth, 
but  he  inaugurated  a  series  of  discoveries  which  led  to 


29 


the  sources  of  the  Nile,  and  caused  the  mystery  to  clear 
away  from  the  most  interesting  geographical  problem  of 
our  time. 

The  whole  secret  of  success  with  the  traveler  rests  in 
the  heart  and  not  in  the  pocket.  It  is  the  manhood  of 
the  traveler  that  achieves  success.  Above  all  things, 
the  traveler  must  be  sincere. 

In  illustration  of  the  self  confidence,  of  sincerity,  of 
motive  and  singleness  of  purpose  in  the  accomplishment 
of  an  aim  among  uncivilized  peoples,  let  me  recall  to 
you  the  story  of  Captain  Lyon,  who,  when  about  to 
start  for  Africa,  had  a  protracted  consultation  with  the 
official  committee.  Leaving  them  at  length  to  discuss 
in  private  the  outfit  with  which  he  was  to  be  supplied, 
Captain  Lyon  strolled  down  the  street.  Returning  in 
half  an  hour,  he  found  them  still  in  consultation.  The 
chairman  said,  “Captain,  we  have  been  discussing  your 
outfit,  but  have  not  yet  quite  arrived  at  a  conclusion  as 
to  what  it  should  be;  we  would  be  glad  to  have  some 
suggestions.”  The  Captain  promptly  replied,  u0!  don’t 
trouble  yourselves  gentlemen,  my  outfit  is  already  pur¬ 
chased.”  “Indeed!”  exclaimed  they  all  in  concert. 
“Yes;  I  bought  it  while  I  was  out,  and  here  it  is,” 
whereupon  he  produced  a  tin  cup.  Much  wondering, 
they  asked  what  he  meant,  “Why,”  said  he,  “I  can 
drink  from  that,  I  can  cook  my  meals  in  that,  if  neces¬ 
sary,  and  as  for  the  rest,  I  trust  to  the  people.  I  would 
advise  every  traveler  to  buy  a  silver  cup  if  he  can  afford 
it,  as  it  will  last  longer,  but  I  can  only  afford  a  tin  one.” 

Buy  a  tin  cup  and  trust  to  the  people!  Trust  to  the 
people!  The  man  who  did  this  heartily  was  never  yet 


3° 


disappointed.  The  man  who  never  lied  to  the  people 
by  word  or  manner  was  never  harmed,  but  has  passed 
safely  through  their  lands,  were  they  even  the  veriest 
savages. 

A  great  truth  underlies  this  story.  It  is  this— success 
cannot  be  achieved  without  the  friendship  of  the  people, 
and  that  once  gained  is  far  more  than  treasures  of  gold, 
and  silver,  and  precious  stones.  But  in  all  this,  there 
must  be  natural,  unfeigned  sincerity.  One  may  be  a 
hypocrite  in  civilized  life  and  succeed  in  his  desires  by 
so  doing,  but  he  cannot  palm  off  such  broken  wares 
upon  the  savage 

David  Livingstone  possessed  all  these  qualities  of  the 
great  traveler;  and  besides  a  cool  courage,  he  had  calm 
judgment  and  great  discretion,  but,  over  and  above  all, 
he  was  the  embodiment  of  truth  itself  uTo  ride  a 
horse,  to  bend  the  bow,  to  speak  the  truth,”  was  to  be 
a  man  in  ancient  Norseland.  “A  man,  a  word,”  it  be¬ 
came,  later — and  Livingstone  was  a  true  son  of  his 
ancestors.  And  he  possessed  the  loftiest  bravery.  That 
man  is  not  necessarily  brave  who  cuts  his  way  through 
great  obstacles  at  the  head  of  an  army,  and  who  takes 
the  lives  of  those  who  oppose  his  onward  march ;  but  he 
is  truly  brave  who  coolly  and  calmly  encounters  what¬ 
ever  lies  in  his  pathway,  and  by  discreet  calculation 
makes  his  way  around  opposing  obstacles,  and  wins  to 
his  side  all  whom  he  meets,  claiming  their  confidence 
and  support,  and  causing  them  to  become  his  assistants 
rather  than  his  opponents,  and  when  he  has  departed, 
leaves  behind  him  a  memory  of  love,  and  kindness,  and 
simplicity,  that  will  cause  the  barbarous  companions  of 


31 


his  toil  to  speak  of  him  with  tender  veneration.  This  is 
the  true  hero,  and  such  a  hero  was  he  whose  memory 
we  have  gathered  here  to  honor. 

David  Livingstone  had  a  sincere  desire  to  benefit 
mankind.  It  was  not  alone  that  he  was  kind  to  the 
ignorant  savage  who  waited  on  him,  and  helped  him 
forward  on  his  journey;  he  desired  to  see  the  world 
improved  by  the  extension  of  knowledge.  uTo  diffuse 
knowledge  among  men,”  was  the  purpose  of  the  liberal 
minded  Smithson  ;  but  to  create  knowledge  was  the  aim 
of  Livingstone  ;  and  in  this  he  saw  a  halo  of  light  to 
guide  coming  generations  to  a  higher  level  of  manhood 
and  of  brotherhood.  This,  as  it  seems  to  me,  was  the 
guiding  star  of  his  life,  and  his  record  shall,  in  conse¬ 
quence,  live  through  all  time.  From  where  the  Atlantic 
rolls  its  hoarse  notes  along  the  Western  coast,  to  where 
the  spice-laden  breezes  of  the  Indies  chime  their  melo¬ 
dies  in  the  East ;  on  the  borders  of  the  inland  seas,  along 
the  banks  of  the  sluggish  streams,  throughout  the  deep, 
dark  shades  of  the  almost  impenetrable  forests,  Afric’s 
dusky  children  shall  tell  from  generation  to  generation, 
of  the  mighty  deeds,  the  unwavering  valor,  the  daunt¬ 
less  courage,  the  mild  and  gentle  manners  of  the  great 
white  man  who  passed  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  up 
and  down  along  their  sunny  fountains  like  an  angel  of 
mercy. 

I  can  comprehend  and  sympathise  with  the  throbbings 
of  that  great  man’s  soul,  as  isolated  from  home  and  kin¬ 
dred  he  wandered  among  the  savage  tribes,  in  the  midst 
of  trials  and  obstacles,  in  search  of  the  great  object  of 
his  restless  ambition.  I  think  I  can  understand  his 

32 


feelings  as  he  forced  his  way  through  impediment  after 
impediment,  never  tiring,  never  fainting,  never  yielding 
whatever  his  privations,  thinking  not  of  the  life  he  was 
exhausting,  forgetting  the  sacrifices  he  was  making  in 
pursuit  of  his  great  aim,  when  from  amidst  the  dark  and 
gloomy  shades  of  those  unbroken  wilds  first  flashed  upon 
his  bewildered  gaze  the  waters  of  the  inland  sea,  which 
he  at  first  believed  to  be  the  fountain  of  the  Nile,  and  I 
think  I  am  not  a  stranger  to  the  emotions  he  must  have 
experienced,  when,  upon  further  exploration,  his  seem¬ 
ing  success  paled  into  disappointment ;  for,  when  I  recall 
that  experience  of  his  life,  I  remember  my  own  emotions 
as  I  stood  upon  the  shores  of  the  open  sea  beneath  the 
Pole,  after  three  perilous  attempts,  and  realized  that  my 
ship,  which  should  have  taken  me  to  the  goal  within  my 
reach,  was  frozen  fast  in  the  ice  hundreds  of  miles  behind 
me. 

I  think  I  understand  the  purpose  that  animated  him 
when  he  refused  to  accompany  the  intrepid  Stanley 
back  to  civilization,  and  decided  once  more,  in  his  old 
age  and  wasted  strength,  alone  to  push  out  still  further 
in  search  of  the  dream  of  his  life;  for  after  twenty  years 
of  struggle  and  disappointment  I  have  not  yet  abandoned 
my  fixed  and  steadfast  purpose  to  reach  the  North  Pole 
by  way  of  Smith’s  Sound. 

I  seem  to  see  him  as  he  wends  his  way,  leading  his 
savage  followers,  who  cling  to  him  with  blind  enthusi¬ 
asm,  unable  to  comprehend  why  the  white  man  should 
always  choose  danger  and  face  death,  rather  than  quiet 
and  safety.  Ah!  that  man  was  seeking  truth,  and  he 
knew  no  other  following. 


33 


& 


We  know  not  yet  the  full  measure  of  his  achievements, 
We  only  know  that,  steadfast  to  duty,  he  had  finished 
his  work,  and  had  finally  turned  his  face  homeward, 
when  the  grim  messenger  he  had  so  often  thwarted,  met 
him  on  the  way  and  struck  the  fatal  blow,  and  he  fell 
when  he  had  won  his  victory,  leaving  behind  him  an 
example  of  fortitude  and  devotion  that  shall  be  an  ex¬ 
ample  to  the  latest  generations. 

His  work  is  done,  and  well  he  did  it ;  and  they  have 
laid  him  away 

“In  the  great  Minster’s  transept,  where  light  like  glories  fall; 

And  the  sweet  choir  sings,  and  the  organ  rings 
Along  the  emblazoned  wall.” 

And  here  the  curtain  drops  upon  a  life.  It  is  not 
given  to  us  to  know  more  than  that  which  we  have 
seen,  but  what  we  have  seen  gives  us  hope  and  strength¬ 
ens  our  courage.  We  have  watched  this  great  man’s 
career.  We  have  seen  him  hand  in  hand  with  his  two 
guiding  spirits — the  spirit  of  discovery  and  the  spirit  of 
the  Christian  faith.  Future  generations  only  can  tell 
the  harvest  to  be  gathered  for  civilization  from  the  seed 
he  has  sown.  He  has  indeed  planted  the  germ  that  shall 
yet  cause  the  wilderness  to  bud  and  blossom  as  the  rose. 
He  has  erected  for  himself  in  man’s  affections  a  monu¬ 
ment  that  shall  endure  long  after  the  grand  old  pile, 
which  now  enshrines  his  ashes,  shall  have  crumbled  away 
to  dust  and  been  forgotten.  Empires  may  rise  and  fall ; 
nations  may  be  blotted  out,  and  known  no ’more;  rulers, 
statesmen,  warriors,  lost  in  oblivion  ;  but  the  name  of  the 
great  traveler  whom  we  mourn  to-day,  shall  never  fade 
while  the  spirit  of  Chistianity  and  the  love  of  truth 
animate  the  souls  of  men. 

34 


ADDRESS  OF  REV.  NOAH  HUNT  SCHENCK,  D.D. 

OF  BROOKLYN. 


Mr.  President  : — I  do  not  flatter  myself,  that  it  is  at 
all  within  the  range  of  my  poor  ability  to  contribute  to 
the  interest  of  this  occasion  after  the  eloquent  and  ex¬ 
haustive  deliverances  of  the  distinguished  men  who  have 
preceded  me.  Still  I  would  essay  the  discharge  of  the 
pleasing  duty  you  have  imposed,  and  weaving  into  ex¬ 
pression  certain  sentiments  of  appreciation,  lay  them  as 
a  wreath  of  immortelles  upon  the  tomb  of  Livingstone. 

The  possibilities  of  human  development  have  no  finer 
illustration,  than  in  the  story  of  him  whose  merit  and 
memory  we  are  met  to  honor.  A  few  days  since,  the 
noblest  of  the  land  gathered  in  London  under  the  groined 
arches  of 

“ - that  Temple  where  the  dead 

Are  honored  by  the  nation,” 

to  pay  the  ultimate  tributes  of  earth  to  all  that  was  left 
of  the  great  African  Missionary  and  Explorer,  committing 
in  solemn  services  the  body  to  the  ground,  and  the  soul 
to  the  God  that  gave  it — leaving  the  honored  ashes  in 
the  mausoleum  of  England’s  mighty  dead,  dropping  upon 
them  the  tears  of  affection,  and  offering  over  them  a 
reverential  Laus  Deo  that  such  a  man  had  been  given  to 
the  age  and  race,  not  only  because  of  the  good  he  had 
done,  but  for  the  illustration  he  gave  of  elevated  manhood. 


35 


It  is  less  than  sixty  years  ago  that  David  Livingstone 
was  born.  He  was  fortunate  in  the  majestic  elements  of 
natural  grandeur  that  environed  the  spot  of  his  nativity. 
It  was  on  the  beautiful  banks  of  the  Clyde,  and  near 
where  Ben  Lomond  lifts  his  “bald  and  towering  crest,1’ 
and  almost  in  the  shadow  of  Dumbarton’s  u  castellated 
crag.”  Ilis  father  was  a  poor  shopman,  of  whom  there 
is  little  to  say,  except  the  honorable  tradition,  that  “he 
was  too  honest  to  get  rich.”  The  res  angustce  domi  soon 
compelled  young  Livingstone  to  seek  elsewhere  for  a 
livelihood,  and  for  many  years  he  threw  the  shuttle  as  a 
weaver’s  boy.  But  his  mind  meantime  was  busy,  and 
his  time  was  rigidly  economised.  There  were  invisible 
threads  with  which  he  was  concurrently  occupied, — 
weaving  in  the  warp  and  woof  of  character  elements  of 
beauty  and  utility,  which,  when  afterward  touched  up  by 
the  hand  of  experience,  presented  to  the  world  a  finished 
specimen  of  human  tapestry. 

When  somewhat  relieved  from  the  pressure  of  toiling 
for  his  daily  bread,  Livingstone  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of  Medicine,  and  afterward  to  careful  preparation 
for  the  Christian  ministry.  He  proposed  going  to  China, 
but,  upon  the  showing  that  his  services  could  be  more 
useful  in  South  Africa,  he  promptly  accepted  this  as  the 
scene  of  his  evangelizing  labors.  And,  for  one -third  of 
a  century,  he  has  made  his  home  in  that  land  over  which 
the  pall  of  barbarism  has  so  mysteriously  rested.  ITis 
zeal,  modesty,  self-sacrifice,  and  single-hearted  devotion 
to  the  great  end  contemplated  first  and  last,  are  unpar- 
elleled  in  the  history  of  missions  and  scientific  exploration. 
He  carried  into  his  missionary  effort,  in  well  ordered 

36 


methods,  an  intelligence  and  discriminating  sympathy, 
which  ensured  a  peculiar  and  unprecedented  success, 
and  which  has  won  for  his  work  a  world-wide  approba¬ 
tion.  But  appealing  from  the  rigid  conventions  of  mis¬ 
sionary  administration,  Livingstone  proposed  and  pushed 
the  grand  idea  that  Christianity  and  Science,  as  the  twin 
pioneers  of  the  highest  civilization,  were  necessary  for 
the  moral  redemption  of  Africa.  Under  this  inspiration 
he  threaded  the  mazes  of  wilderness  and  desert,  planting 
the  foot  of  exploration  along  routes  never  before  pursued, 
except  by  the  savage  sons  of  Ham  ;  telling  of  Christ  to 
those  who  had  never  before  heard  the  name;  and  offering 
devotions  where  the  rocks  had  never  echoed  the  sound 
and  the  air  never  been  moved  by  the  pulsations  of  prayer. 
The  results  of  all  this  are  in  part  matters  of  history  and 
scientific  record.  But  the  consequences  shall  be  ever- 
flowing,  as  a  fountain  once  broken  forth  and  affluently 
fed  by  hidden  but  exhaustless  reservoirs.  But,  alas !  the 
hand  that  touched  the  rock  and  opened  a  way  for  the 
waters,  is  paralyzed  in  death.  And  the  great  man  died 
witli  his  harness  on.  He  fell  upon  the  held.  But  they 
have  brought  him  home  to  sleep.  They  have  laid  him 
to  rest  amidst  the  best  and  the  bravest.  Around  him  are 
heroes,  and  statesmen,  and  poets.  Men  of  art,  men  of 
letters,  and  men  of  sublime  philanthropy.  But  amidst 
the  rich  memorials  of  sleeping  greatness,  there  is  no 

“  Storied  urn  or  animated  bust,” 


whose  legends  tell  of  a  nobler  life  than  that  of  David 
Livingstone. 

The  splendid  pageant  of  his  obsequies  was  a  fitting 
close  to  the  story  of  a  career  at  once  so  modest  and  so 


37 


majestic, — begun  in  a  little  hamlet  in  the  romantic  High¬ 
lands  of  Scotland,  pursued  for  the  whole  work- time  of 
life  in  the  wilds  of  Africa,  and  concluded  amidst  the 
architectural  glories  of  the  great  cathedral  where  society 
and  the  state,  by  their  representatives  of  highest  worth 
and  rank,  thronged  the  historic  aisles,  and  vied  with  each 
other  to  do  reverence  to  the  honored  dead.  Hither  came 
Livingstone,  ushered  by  no  such  Valhalla  cry  as  that 
which  is  said  to  have  burst  from  Britain’s  heroes,  and 
spurred  the  hot  desire  for  fame,  when  bracing  to  the 
shock  of  battle,  “Victory,  or  Westminster  Abbey;”  but 
hither  was  he  brought  from  a  lonely  exile,  where  in 
silence  and  solitude  he  wrought  at  his  life-task,  with 
the  love  of  Man  for  his  inspiration,  and  the  love  of  God 
for  his  reward. 


But,  turning  from  the  spectacle  of  his  august  sepulture, 
and  before  the  echoes  of  the  great  civic  requiem  have 
floated  quite  away,  may  we  not  profitably  inquire  into 
the  springs  of  this  eminent  appreciation  of  Livingstone. 
Why  is  it  that  England  honors,  why  do  we  and  all  the 
world  honor  him?  The  secret  of  this  man’s  greatness,  I 
take  to  be,  was,  that  he  made  the  most  of  what  was  in  him. 
He  put  himself  to  the  best  use,  and  he  did  his  work  well. 

The  theory  of  Livingstone’s  life  has  not  been  properly 
apprehended  in  certain  quarters.  He  has  been  taken  to 
task  for  giving  up  the  simple  career  of  the  missionary 
to  put  on  the  mantle  of  the  scientific  traveler,  and  enter 
upon  the  secular  engagements  of  exploration.  But  how 
partial  and  prejudiced  the  judgment  of  such  superficial - 
ists !  How  utterly  inadequate  the  scope  of  such  a  vision 
to  analyze  the  character  or  trace  the  circumference  of 


38 


the  great  sentiment  that  charged  the  man !  That  senti¬ 
ment,  and  it  was  alike  consistent  in  detail  and  duration, 
that  sentiment  was  the  desire  to  do  the  largest  amount 
of  good  in  his  day  to  the  human  race.  Actuated  by  this 
feeling  he  first  accepted  the  commission  of  Christ,  and 
labored  zealously  as  a  missionary.  And  let  it  be  broadly 
published,  and  everywhere  accepted  .for  true,  that  he 
was  not  a  whit  the  less  a  missionary  when  he  became  an 
explorer.  On  the  contrary,  this  was  only  the  widening 
of  the  field  and  the  augmenting  of  his  own  effort,  and 
the  pioneering  and  preparing  the  way  for  others  who 
should  follow  him. 

For  ten  or  twelve  years,  Livingstone,  though  engaged 
in  the  ordinary  duties  of  a  missionary  at  Kuruman  and 
Kolebeng  was,  one  may  say,  in  reality  by  this  very  ex¬ 
perience,  qualifying  himself  for  his  subsequent  and  more 
important  work.  Early  in  this  period,  from  1840  to  1 844, 
he  addressed  himself  not  only  to  the  study  of  the  native 
dialects,  but  even  more  especially  to  the  ways  and  wants 
of  the  people,  their  peculiar  habits  of  thought,  and 
domestic  life.  To  this  end  he  made  his  home  with  them, 
and  became  as  one  of  themselves.  Thus  securing  an 
introduction  to  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  inner 
life  of  the  natives,  he  ere  long  established  a  sympathetic 
relationship ;  and,  in  conseqnence,  a  certain  magnetic 
mastery.  Near  the  termination  of  this  twelve-year  term 
of  comparatively  stationary  work,  Livingstone  made  sev¬ 
eral  exploring  excursions,  one  extending  as  far  as  the  Zam¬ 
bezi,  and  from  the  last  of  which  he  returned  to  find  that 
Kolebeng  had  been  overrun  by  the  Dutch  Boers  ;  many  of 
his  people  killed  or  carried  into  captivity ;  the  whole  set- 


39 


tlement  devastated  and  left  in  utter  desolation,  and  the 
mission  and  its  property  utterly  ruined  by  pillage,  fire 
and  sword.  This  was  the  turning-point  of  his  whole 
career.  Before  him  were  the  wrecks  of  more  than  ten 
years  of  earnest  effort.  And  this  because  of  the  greed 
and  brutality  of  men  who  were  of  the  white  race  of  the 
North,  and  who  had  lived  under  the  influences  of  a 
Christian  civilization.  One  such  illustration  was  enough 
to  satisfy  this  Missionary  that  the  evangelization  of  Africa 
was  not  to  be  accomplished  by  a  few  single-handed 
missionary  efforts  at  remote  and  isolated  pbints;  but 
rather  that  it  was  to  be  brought  about  by  introducing 
Christianity  at  work ;  that  is,  inviting  the  whole  of  the 
machinery  of  our  civilization  to  the  wilds  of  Africa. 
And  so  lie  resolved  to  give  his  life  to  prepare  the  way 
for  it,  by  opening  up  the  river  highways,  and  disclosing 
the  inland  seas,  and  investigating  the  fertility  of  soil, 
and  cataloguing  the  natural  products  of  forest,  field  and 
mine.  And  more  than  this,  to  plant  the  seeds  of  sym¬ 
pathy  and  friendly  feeling  in  the  hearts  of  the  tribes  he 
should  encounter  in  his  way,  preaching  the  truth  of 
Christ  not  onlv  in  the  revealed  theories,  but  much  more 
by  the  beauty  of  character  and  the  eloquence  of  example. 

And  so  it  was,  that  he  returned  to  the  Cape,  sent  his 
family  to  England,  and,  after  a  brief  season  of  scientific 
study  under  the  Royal  Astronomer,  set  his  face  to  the 
north,  and  began  his  wonderful  journeys  of  discovery 
and  scientific  observation  which  pursued  lines  of  adven¬ 
ture  reaching  out  for  eleven  thousand  miles,  and  which 
covered  a  period  of  more  than  twenty  years.  Let  others, 
better  qualified,  rehearse  the  invaluable  results  to  Geo- 

40 


graphical  Science,  but  from  my  point  of  observation,  I 
am  bold  to  say,  that  the  moral  consequences  of  Living¬ 
stone’s  African  embassy  are  incalculably  great.  llis 
whole  career  in  that  land  is  a  gospel  epic.  Aside  from 
his  faithful  and  never  suspended  oral  deliverances  of  re¬ 
vealed  truth,  he  preached  by  life  as  no  man  had  ever 
done  by  tongue.  His  every  act  was  at  once  a  sermon  and 
a  practical  illustration.  He  has  left  records  which  will 
become  enduring  traditions  with  the  tribes  and  the 
localities ;  and  long  after  you  and  I,  Mr.  President, 
shall  have 'passed  away,  shall  the  redeemed  generations 
rehearse  with  gratitude  to  God  the  memories  of  Living¬ 
stone,  the  pioneer  and  prophet  of  Africa’s  civil  and 
religious  renovation ! 


To  the  working  out  of  his  great  undertaking,  Living¬ 
stone  invited  neither  personal  co-operation  in  the  field 
nor  the  backing  of  state  patronage  at  home.  He  went 
forth  single-handed  and  alone,  like  the  shepherd  boy  of 
Israel,  but  strong  in  the  consciousness  of  divine  benedic¬ 
tion.  He  marshal  l  ed  the  forces  of  his  remarkable  personal 
character,  and  with  these  for  the  weapons  of  his  warfare 
manfully  breasted  the  perils  and  the  difficulties  that 
bristled  all  along  his  path. 

I  regret  that  I  have  only  space  to  speak  a  word 
of  the  moral  forces  which  armed  and  mailed  this 
man  as  he  prosecuted  his  great  adventures.  It  would 
lie  alike  instructive  and  interesting  to  cite  from  the 
abundant  illustrations  which  crowd  the  eventful  record 
of  his  long  and  laborious  journeyings.  But  without  such 
corroboration,  I  am  free  to  claim  for  Livingstone,  first 
of  all,  and  most  conspicuously,  great  singleness  of  purpose. 


41 


From  the  hamlet  on  the  Clyde  to  the  rude  hut  which 
canopied  his  Ethiopian  death  bed,  the  avowed  and 
recorded  aim  and  end  of  his  life  was  never  for  a  moment 
blurred  or  overwritten.  Nothing  ever  diverted  him  from 
the  line  of  his  effort,  and  if  he  had  no  other  element  of 
distinction,  this  alone  would  have  signalized  his  career. 

But  to  this  oneness  of  idea  and  effort  were  appended, 
as  agents  of  execution,  a  determination  and  fearlessness 
almost,  if  not  quite,  exceptional  in  the  record  of  bold 
exploration.  When  we  remember  that  he  entered  upon 
his  expeditions  into  unknown  regions  without  the  possi¬ 
bility  of  help  in  case  of  disaster ;  that  he  encountered 
the  perils  of  wild  beasts  and  the  more  fearful  craft  and 
cunning  of  the  wild  and  savage  aborigines;  that  he  was 
exposed  to  the  poisonous  malaria  of  swamp  and  jungle; 
that  for  months  together  he  was  dependent  upon  the 
precarious  products*  of  the  forest  and  stream  for  the 
means  of  sustaining  life,  and,  that  under  a  tropical  sun 
fatiguing  marches  and  wasting  fevers  were  to  be  accepted 
of  necessity,  as  enfeebling  frictions  if  not  fatal  foes ; — of 
a  surety,  nothing  less  than  a  sublime  heroism  could  have 
nerved  a  man  for  such  threatening  and  danger-fraught 
ventures.  But  with  Livingstone  one  expedition  followed 
another  with  determination  undaunted,  with  a  purpose 
and  programme  into  which  the  element  of  fear  never 
entered. 

The  modesty  and,  utter  absence  of  self-assertion  in 
Livingstone  are  entitled  to  honorable  mention.  I  have 
never  read  of  a  man  who  seemed  to  claim  so  little  for 
himself.  With  him  the  individual  was  lost  to  view  in  the 
magnitude  of  the  cause.  Here  we  have  the  crucial  test  of 


42 


true  greatness.  There  is  not  a  single  incident  in  the 
career  before  us  that  conflicts  with  this.  On  the  contrary, 
recall  for  illustration,  the  signal  instance  of  Livingstone’s 
disappointment,  for  disappointment  it  must  have  been, 
in  not  being  the  first  to  publish  the  true  explanation  of 
the  geological  structure  of  Central  South  Africa.  Many 
theories  had  been  advanced,  all  of  which  Livingstone 
had  by  topographical  observation  found  to  be  inaccurate. 
The  true  idea  he  was  the  first  to  derive  from  local  investiga¬ 
tion,  and  when  he  came  to  report  the  important  scientific 
fact  that  the  region  of  his  explorations  was  a  great  con¬ 
cave  stratification,  he  then  learned  that  Sir  Roderick 
Murchison  had  already  demonstrated  before  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society,  years  before,  the  same  conclusion, 
as  the  result  of  his  own  investigations,  deduced  from 
data  previously  matters  of  scientific  record.  This,  in¬ 
stead  of  exciting  a  feeling  of  antagonism,  only  served  to 
draw  these  savans  in  geographical  science  sympathetically 
together,  and  paved  the  way  to  a  friendship  between 
them  which  Livingstone  fondly  cherished  to  the  close  of 
his  life. 

I  approach  the  conclusion  of  what  I  have  to  submit  on 
this  memorable  occasion  with  a  feeling  somewhat  akin 


to  regret.  For  it  is  inspiriting,  Mr.  President,  to  our 
sentiment  of  manhood  thus  to  contemplate  the  career  of 
one  who  gave  his  life  to  redeem  a  continent  from  barba¬ 
rism,  who  has  extended  the  area  of  Christian  homes  for 
the  world’s  population,  and  who,  augmenting  the  com¬ 
merce  and  wealth  of  the  race,  and  contributing  to  the 
scientific  knowledge  of  the  structure  and  resources  of  the 
orb  we  inhabit,  at  the  same  time  helps  to  prepare  the  way 


43 


for  the  world-wide  establishment  of  revealed  truth  and 
Christian  civilization. 

May  I  crave  permission  at  this  point  to  recall  your 
minds  to  a  somewhat  singular  event  in  the  annals  of 
exploration  which  has  an  incidental  bearing  upon  the 
general  topic  under  remark  ?  Toward  the  close  of  the 
fifteenth  century, synchronizing  strangely  enough  with  the 
date  of  the  discovery  of  America,  a  fleet  of  Portuguese 
explorers  landed  a  numerous  and  well-armed  body  of 
men  on  the  east  coast  of  Africa,  near  to  Zanzibar  and  prob¬ 
ably  not  far  from  the  very  point,  Bagomoyo,  where, 
four  hundred  years  after,  the  embassy  of  the  New-York 
Herald,  under  the  leadership  of  Stanley,  started  for  the 
interior  on  the  search  for  Livingstone.  This  Portuguese 
expedition  was  in  cpiest  of  that  mythical  Prince,  Prester 
John.  For  two  centuries  romantic  rumors  of  this  half-his¬ 
toric,  half-imaginary  personage  had  floated  through  Chris¬ 
tendom.  The  original  idea  of  his  Nestorian  priesthood 
and  his  Persian  Principality  having  been  proved  to  be 
without  warrant, — upon  the  foundation  of  a  conjecture 
started,  no  one  knew  where  or  by  whom,  and  having  no 
authority  or  even  recognized  paternity  at  the  moment, 
an  expeditionary  force  was  sent  out  by  the  adventurous 
King  of  Portugal,  and  the  fleet  finally  came  to  anchor 
off  the  Zanzibar  coast.  Disembarking  here,  the  little 
army,  with  the  impedimenta  necessary  either  for  military 
operations  or  for  ingratiating  negotiations  witli  a  king 
and  court,  reputed  to  be  unparalleled  in  magnificence 
and  state,  penetrated  the  interior  for  hundreds  of  miles. 
It  is  held  by  many  whose  opinions  are  entitled  to  respect 
that  between  the  sixth  and  eighth  parallels  of  latitude 


44 


these  strange  adventurers  pressed  their  way,  enduring  the 
while  with  a  glad  enthusiasm  and  heroic  fortitude  the 
terrific  heats  of  a  tropical  sun,  until,  at  last,  when  prob¬ 
ably  finding  their  further  progress  barred  by  the  lake, 
now  named  Tanganyika,  they  became  disheartened  or 
dismayed,  and  so  returned  upon  their  course  and  once 
more  sought  their  ships.  How  remarkable  the  fact  that 
the  line  of  the  march  of  these  pilgrim  Portuguese  was 
so  nearly  identical  with  the  path  that  Stanley  trod 
searching  for  Livingstone,  and  that  the  ultimate  camp¬ 
ing  ground  of  the  Portuguese  was  probably  that  over 
which  the  exploring  feet  of  Livingstone  had  wandered 
during  the  very  latest  journeys  of  his  life.  The  Portu¬ 
guese  had  gone  in  martial  array  seeking  one,  who,  they 
imagined,  gave  lustre  and  renown  by  his  princely  state 
to  the  religion  of  Christ.  Stanley  went  bearing  a  flag 
that  symbolized  the  Christian  civilization  of  a  hemi¬ 
sphere  of  which  these  Portuguese  had  never  heard, 
looking  for  a  man  who  for  some  time  past  had  been  lost 
to  view,  but  who  meantime  was  pioneering  paths  of  dis¬ 
covery  to  the  heart  of  a  continent,  opening  up  highways 
for  the  winged  feet  of  science  and  multiplying  facilities  for 
the  propagation  of  that  glorious  religion  which  at  once 
dignifies  the  Creator  and  ennobles  the  creature.  The 
Portuguese  went  on  an  embassy  from  an  earthly  king, 
that  they  might  establish  ecclesiastical  commerce  with 
one  who  they  supposed  would  aggrandize  with  pomp 
and  circumstance  the  temporal  estate  of  the  Church  of 
God.  On  the  same  strand  of  Tanganyika  which  they 
stamped  with  their  footprints,  four  centuries  later  strode 
Livingstone,  indenting  the  sands  with  knees  as  well  as 

45 


* 


feet,  holding  before  him  the  grander  idea  of  emancipat¬ 
ing  a  race  from  idolatry  and  redeeming  a  continent 
from  inutility,  and  so  preparing  new  kingdoms  and 
founding  new  churches  for  God  and  His  Christ. 

As  a  matter  of  excusable  national  pride  will  you 
pardon  a  word  more,  Mr.  President,  touching  the  expe¬ 
dition  which  was  projected  and  prosecuted  by  the  New- 
York  Herald,  or  (as  we  may  say,  without  trespassing 
upon  the  impersonality  of  its  proprietorship)  by  Mr. 
Bennett,  for  the  search  and  aid  of  Livingstone.  The 
unprecedented  enterprise  of  this  great  agent  of  current 
intelligence  was  -crowned  with  a  success  which  may 
properly  be  styled  renown.  I  must  believe  that  the 
author  and  promoter,  as  well  as  his  intrepid  agent  and 
executor,  projected  and  u  builded  better  than  they 
knew.”  What  was  designed  for  business  resulted  in 
honor  and  fame  for  themselves  and  for  their  country. 
The  Herald  enterprise  accomplished  for  Livingstone,  as  it 
eventuated,  more  than  all  that  was  attempted  in  this  di¬ 
rection  by  the  British  Government.  It  carried  necessary 
supplies  to  the  Explorer  in  advance  of  the  help  ordered  by 
England,  and  so  keeping  him  in  the  field  which  he  other¬ 
wise  must  needs  have  abandoned,  secured  to  the  interests 
of  science  and  religion  many  months  more  of  active  ser¬ 
vice  in  exploration  and  missionary  effort.  It  is  not,  there¬ 
fore,  saying  too  much  to  claim  that  the  expedition  of 
the  New- York  Herald  in  the  search  and  for  the  help  of 
Livingstone  has  connected  his  name  inseparably  with 
America  and  given  to  our  country  a  large  share  in  the 
glory  of  his  splendid  achievements  in  Africa. 


46 


Mr.  President,  the  greatness  of  the  man  whose  name 
and  fame  we  celebrate  and  solemnize  in  the  memorial 
services  of  this  occasion,  are  not  to  be  segregated  for 
the  embellishment  of  any  one  race  or  nation.  Living¬ 
stone  belongs  to  the  Christian  world.  Though  born  in 
Scotland,  Scotland  does  not  own  him.  Though  prose¬ 
cuting  his  heroic  labors  under  the  a  meteor  flag 11  of 

4 

England,  he  belongs  not  to  Britain  alone.  Though  he 
toiled  beneath  the  torrid  sun  of  Africa,  Ethiopia  cannot 
claim  him  as  peculiarly  her  son.  Though  his  later  sym¬ 
pathies  went  heartily  forth,  gratefully  recognizing  this 
western  land  as  the  home  of  those  who  practically  vin¬ 
dicated  love  and  cordial  fellowship  in  the  hour  of  sorest 
need,  yet  xVmerica  has  no  peculiar  interest  in  the  glory 
of  Livingstone.  Though  he  has  been  laid  to  rest  in 
England’s  proudest  minster,  that  minster  does  not  hold 
him.  His  character  is  too  great  to  be  the  property  of  any 
race,  his  work  too  vast  for  the  ownership  of  any  nation. 
Llis  glory  is  the  possession  of  the  Christian  world.  His 
Evangely  is  the  inheritance  of  the  brotherhood  of  man. 
He  was  too  large  in  purpose,  too  grand  in  work  for  any¬ 
thing  less  than  Catholic  human  fraternity.  Least  of  all 
and  last  of  all,  may  it  be  said  of  Livingstone,  as  was 
charged  upon  Britain’s  greatest  statesman — 

“  Who,  born  for  the  universe,  narrowed  his  mind, 

And  to  England  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind.” 


47 


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